Forward
by Nidoran Duran
Summary: Hilda helps ease an awkward N into the mood.


N already knows Hilda is looking for something before she announces her intent. He's still working on reading people with the help of his friends, but there is nothing ambiguous or unclear about the way she's bent over as she takes far too long to grab a soda can from the fridge. Her jean shorts hug her amazing ass so snugly that he's wondered multiple times if she chooses ones just too small to accent it. She sways back and forth with a practised and enticing motion, and she doesn't even bother to peek over her shoulder to the older boy spread out on the couch because she knows where his eyes are, knows that he's flustered and blushing, probably unsure if he should even be looking, but that he can't help himself.

Hilda's had to teach N a lot about sex. As in mostly everything. A crash course in sex ed for a nineteen year-old who knew that stroking his cock felt good and virtually nothing else. She taught him everything from kissing to touching to the fact that yes, oral and anal sex are completely normal things and not even remotely the height of decency. Even with that experience, he seems unsure when to act on his body's urges and instead of taking charge just becomes a fumbling and uncertain lump of awkwardness. Fortunately, Hilda rather likes it that way, being the sort of girl who prefers to take charge in the bedroom anyway.

She brings two cans over to N, placing them down on the table and grinning toward her boyfriend, who lies spread out on the couch. He tries to focus on the television, but his eyes awkwardly veer toward her firm and bare thighs, and her irresistible smile. Despite the fact she's coming onto him he always feels just a touch guilty about watching her as intently as he did. Staring was a habit he had to learn his way out of, and even though she often walks around the apartment in nothing but panties, he tries not to stare.

He's just not doing a very good job of it right now.

"You just finished a can," he says unsteadily. Despite his body taking up the entirety of the couch, he knows Hilda doesn't expect him to move. She's more than content with sitting on people she's comfortable with in whatever uncomfortable means she's presented with. "Are you okay? You shouldn't be this thirsty again." He doesn't actually think something's wrong, he's just talking to try and steer the conversation into reasonable places.

Sex makes him nervous. He loves every second of it, but before it happens, he's always uncertain. Sure, there's a gorgeous girl who loves him and wants nothing more than to ride his lap and plant kisses all over him, and he loves that, but it's more than a little intimidating, and the amount of things he had to pick up from her teachings make him worry she isn't enjoying herself as much as he is, despite how loud and vocal she is. It's Hilda; she's always loud and vocal. About everything.

"Actually, I'm not thirsty," she says, leaning over the side of the couch and placing a hand on his thigh. It trails up to his zipper slowly, and she loves to see the way his throat tightens as he swallows nervously. "But I will be soon." Her smile goes crooked as she seizes the slider of his zipper and pulls it down. He squirms and blushes, clearing his throat and attempting words that won't come to him.

N is rather certain that underneath his nervousness he wants it. He knows he does, but being around people is still strange to him and his mind fires off with a million impulse and discomforts. Everything is logic to him, but the introduction of emotions and friendship confuse him; completely irrational and illogical feelings that he's aware don't make sense, but which come through anyway. He's powerless to stop them, just to lie there and witness himself flinching from the girl he loves.

"Should I stop?" she asks, wanting to be considerate and make sure she has his permission. She knows that he instinctively flinches away from touch, and doesn't want to push him. His pants remain open but otherwise undisturbed as she lets him make the decision before going any further.

He smiles a wary smile and shakes his head. This is something he wants, and the best way to get over his instincts is to just take the plunge time and again until he starts associating physical contact with Hilda's affection rather than every painful moment spent before she showed him the worth of humanity. She's helped him overcome so much, but there's more yet to deal with, and he wants nobody by his side more than her.

With his okay, Hilda leans over the couch, placing a leg onto the arm of it as she grabs her boyfriend's pants, tugging them down with some help from his clumsy squirming. She only gets them down to around his knees, impatient and seeing no reason why he'd need to have them all the way down quite down. She doesn't even bother getting his underwear off, just slipping the button out and reaching in with a few fingers to the slit in the fabric. N blushes and tries to keep still as she fishes around for his cock, pulling it out and wrapping her soft hand around it. His attempts to remain in place get harder as she pushes forward, the leg not resting on the armrest pushing down into the cushion as she lies over her green-haired boyfriend.

Another loud swallow as she lowers down and kisses him. Her hair dangles in his face as her tongue prods his lips to part, and when they do she slips it in. Her hand pushes his shaft upward until it's against his stomach, her knuckles dragging up along his shirt and making it ride up as she strokes it. It keeps the space above his groin open so that she can lower her upper body down against his. His hands reach slowly for her hips, grasping them with uncertain grip as he let her kiss him, trying his best not to be too passive about it but not doing the best of jobs. He is again fortunate for his girlfriend's tendency to take the reigns so eagerly.

Hilda kisses him until he's comfortable. It sounds like such a bizarre way of doing things, but affection eases him down from his tense instincts and soothes him. She waits until his fingertips tighten, his eyes open again, and the motion of his hips is no longer nervous fidgeting but a steady rhythm in time with her hand. The soft hand pumps slowly, keeping a grasp firm enough to tug but loose enough that she can effortlessly move along the entire length.

With N finally settled down, she slithers down his body, back the way she came, beaming up at her boyfriend as she finds head around his groin. In a fluid motion her head ends up in place just as her hand brings his cock back upright, her tongue meeting his tip and getting right into it. He shivers as the wet and warm muscle takes long, firm licks along his head, and the tension she washed away is replaced by comfort and need. He's entranced by watching her, a girl who has complete control of the situation but who chooses to tend to his own needs before hers so that he's more comfortable. A loud girl who can get rough pretty much all the time but who becomes oddly gentle the second she reaches for him.

Her lips wrap around him and she pushes down until she meets the hand at his base. The tight seal of her mouth makes him squirm and shudder, and he submits to the heat and moisture of her mouth as she pulls back up. The hand comes with her, sliding along the now wet flesh and getting her digits and palm nice and slick with a little saliva, which one the way back down she gladly spreads to the lower half of his shaft. Then she repeats the motion, and his toes curl, his heart rate quickens, and he is very certainly one hundred percent okay with her touch again.

She hears something that is either 'more' or 'mmah'. Whichever it is, she gives him more anyway, taking that as his okay to really go at it. In short order she speeds up and really gets into it. Sometimes she'll cease the bobbing of her head to assail his tip with her tongue again, or to lap along the sides and let all the saliva in her mouth drip down to her quick, eager hand so that it can slick his shaft up even more. She peeks up at him to find him running a hand through his hair nervously as he watches her go, his eyes occasionally shutting very tightly whenever she does something that he particularly likes, and thankfully there's context for it as his cock provides some meaning to the feedback by throbbing in her grasp.

One his dick is thoroughly slicked up, she lets go of it, reaching down to undo her denim shorts as she continues lapping and sucking on him. All manner of wet, sloppy noises; slurps and kisses by which to assail his ears and satisfy as many senses as she can. He likes it when she gets loud, suppressing his moans as well as he can so that he can hear her more clearly.

When her shorts are undone she slips them off, wiggling her rear to absolutely nobody's eyes, but enjoying the motion nonetheless. Then she pulls out of his groin and gets herself upright and in his lap. Wearing only a pair of simple white panties, she straddles her boyfriend's legs, her toned thighs pulling inward to squeeze either end of his cock. Biting her lower lip, Hilda looks down at N, whose face has nothing but confusion as he wonders exactly what she's doing. It's a concern that very quickly leaves his expression as she rocks upward, dragging her strong, firm inner thighs against his very wet cock with ease.

"Is this another one of those things people do all the time?" he asks, having never thought that sex with Hilda's thighs was an actual thing, let alone something that would feel surprisingly nice. Different than a handjob, and with the added bonus on the gorgeous brunette bouncing in his lap.

"I don't think it's that common, but definitely not very deviant." It was just a spontaneous idea for her. As much as she adores giving blowjobs, she wants to let him finish somewhere different for once, throw some excitement and change into what is, structurally, a fairly planned out and slow sex life. She can't spring a lot on him at once, and while she's patient, little things like this help it get a bit more dynamic.

It's not long with his penis so snug between her thighs-which despite their leanness and how much walking and biking she does, are kept immaculately soft-before he blows. It comes very suddenly, as do all of his orgasms, with a weakness in his knees and a groan halfway to his lips by the time he throbs and loses it. His hips rock upward with strength he doesn't expect and can't react in time enough to control, shaking Hilda, who hangs on and shouts out excitedly as his cum pumps upward and comes back down, the warm and sticky seed splattering all over her thighs.

N lies lazily on the couch, breathless as his girlfriend reaches for the table and grabs one of the soda cans. She opens it and, in short order, downs more than half of the can. With a pleased sigh she offers it to N, who takes it with confusion, looking back to the unopened can still on the table. "I thought that one was mine."

Laughing, she parted her legs and eased forward. "No, that one's for me too, after I've had my fill."


End file.
